Model of Strength
by Fluffy1984
Summary: [G1] Sunstreaker chooses a surprising candidate for study. Rated T for perviness at the end and language.


Disclaimer: Transformers belongs to Hasbro. I belong to me, thank you.

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"Are you ready?" Bumblebee asked, tilting his head and body at a slight angle so he could peek into the closed-off corner improvised into a dressing room. Jessica shyly emerged, blushing bright red across her face and holding a small cloth around her body like a towel.

"I dunno how you talked me into this," she murmured, glancing around nervously as the two trekked out into the halls of the living quarters deck. "I don't know how _Sideswipe_ talked me into this!"

"It's because you understand the professionalism needed," the little bot replied. Jessica just nodded, her nervousness causing her to tremble. Bumblebee smiled at her reassuringly, not sure how else to comfort her misgivings. "You'll be all right. Sideswipe won't let him hurt you."

"I'm not worried about him hurting me, Bumblebee, I'm worried about–!" She paused and ducked her head to the side as they passed Mirage, who only glanced at the two curiously before moving ahead once again to the lift. When she was certain he stood out of hearing range she continued at a lower volume, "I'm worried about what he'll say to me. I don't know why he chose me, anyway; I mean, my body's not perfect. Carly would be a better choice. Or better yet, he could have chosen a professional."

"All I know is there's something to be said since he chose _you_." Jessica's escort paused in front of an extra room, an area that had unofficially become a certain yellow Lamborghini's studio. Since the space wasn't needed for anything higher priority or even storage, Optimus Prime allowed the Twins to use it as they wished.

Jessica took a big sigh and thanked Bumblebee for walking her, then stepped forward to the door. The huge slab of metal slid aside smoothly as if it weighed nothing, then closed behind her once she strode inside. The studio itself was sparsely furnished, with only a few tables, chairs, a cabinet, and a bench. Sideswipe and Sunstreaker turned when she entered, and the young woman almost stopped at their intense gazes. She took a calming breath and smiled in greeting. Sideswipe returned the gesture readily while Sunstreaker continued to gaze at her expectantly.

"Hi, guys," she said, stepping forward and around in an arc so she face the two brothers at a fair distance so she wouldn't have to look up so sharply.

"Hi, Jess," Sideswipe answered, "Are you ready?"

"As I'll ever be." With that the red Lamborghini gently picked Jessica up into his charcoal hands and placed her on the only bench in the room. Now at a higher vantage point, she could pick out the various tools of Sunstreaker's formal Cybertronian trade. There also stood various sketches and paintings, and he even had an easel that currently leaned against the adjacent wall. She wrapped the cloth tighter around herself, bracing for Sunstreaker's harsh tone.

"Sideswipe, make sure no one comes in during this," Sunstreaker commanded. Sideswipe tossed a sloppy salute, then spun on his heel and stepped outside to stand guard.

"Afraid it'll mess up your mojo?" Jessica blurted, smiling sheepishly when Sunstreaker lifted an optic ridge slightly. "Sorry, that's what I call it." In response he only grunted, walking toward the cabinet to Jessica's right. He pulled out charcoal sticks of varying softness from the top drawer, placing them on a rag he used for blending. Next he gathered a giant sketch book he had custom manufactured for him and sat down in one of the chairs, the rag strategically placed atop the cabinet. Only then did the girl notice the thing had wheels.

"You need to relax," he told her, eyeing her with a slightly tilted head.

"I've never done this before," she offered as an excuse, not wanting to admit being naked in front of Sunstreaker alone made her uneasy. "Do you ... want me to stand or sit?"

"Stand for now." She nodded, letting the cloth slide off her shoulders and rolling it in her arms. She set it down, idly thinking they could use the bit of fabric as a prop. Sunstreaker turned to a clean page before looking at her again. "Put just one hand on your hip and face me."

Jessica did as she was told, her body still tense and her posture uneasy. Sunstreaker sighed in slight frustration at her body language.

"Not good enough," he growled, "Relax your body and your features."

"Little hard to do right now," she growled back, her eyes narrowing. Sunstreaker watched her body change in its stance, her legs bracing and shoulders squaring. Even the position of her arms slightly changed to show off their slight build. Now if only her face wasn't scrunched up like that.

"A little better, but still not good enough."

"Why did you choose me?" she asked. Now Sunstreaker frowned at the girl. He didn't have time for her million-and-a-half questions.

"Do you want to do this or not?"

"I ... I just want to know why you chose me and not a professional or something."

"As far as I'm concerned you're the professional. Now, do what you do best and show me your strength." Jessica blinked in surprise. She had no idea Sunstreaker thought of her as having strength of any kind. All he had done was shoot down her appearance, ideals, philosophy, anything. Some days she swore he did it on purpose just to get her to yell at him.

As she gazed at him her body finally fully relaxed and her blush completely disappeared. Her face relaxed into a calmer expression, and again her stance changed. Her hips tilted easier, her body's balance settled, and her back straightened. She almost gasped when she heard the quiet scratch of charcoal on paper, instead focusing on looking straight into his optics. She watched him study her body and pose carefully, the expression in them no longer harsh and demanding.

In a way she felt honored that Sunstreaker chose her to model for him. Out of all the international professionals he could have picked, he completely went off the beaten path and decided on someone who liked to have him critique her own art. She had shown him everything from her animal sketches at 12 years old to her current fanart and paintings. He had something to say about each finished piece, every doodle, all attempts to improve.

"What's with the smile?" he asked, the usual bark to his voice gone. Jessica said nothing, instead offering a small sound to acknowledge the question. Sunstreaker smirked slightly and let it be, instead changing the subject. "Before I forget, thank you for agreeing to this. I searched countless so-called professional models for this, but none of them have what I need."

"What _do_ you need?" The scratching deepened a little as Sunstreaker shaded and refined the sketch. He smiled at her faintly, enigmatically.

"Wouldn't you like to know?" After a few more strokes he said, "Turn around." Jessica obeyed, keeping the same pose and showing Sunstreaker her backside. More soft strokes and slight scratches reached her ears, and she let herself bask in his gaze. "I take it you're feeling better about this."

"Uh-huh. What next after this?"

The amusement barely heard in his voice, Sunstreaker replied, "Doggy style, maybe spoon, possibly reverse cowgirl."

"SUNSTREAKER!!"


End file.
